The Wandering Jew — Complete eBook

He uttered these final words in a tone of such profound
emotion, that Adrienne started. Rodin had approached
without her perceiving it, and without, as it were,
walking at all, for he dragged his steps along the
floor, with a sort of serpent motion; and he had spoken
with so much warmth and enthusiasm, that his pale
face had become slightly tinged, and his repulsive
ugliness had almost disappeared before the brilliancy
of his small sharp eyes, now wide open, and fixed
full upon Adrienne. The latter leaned forward,
with half-open lips and deep-drawn breath, nor could
she take her eyes from the Jesuit’s; he had ceased
to speak, and yet she was still listening. The
feelings of the fair young lady, in presence of this
little old man, dirty, ugly, and poor, were inexplicable.
That comparison so common, and yet so true, of the
frightful fascination of the bird by the serpent, might
give some idea of the singular impression made upon
her. Rodin’s tactics were skillful and
sure. Until now, Mdlle. de Cardoville had never
analyzed her tastes or instincts. She had followed
them, because they were inoffensive and charming.
How happy and proud she then was sure to be to hear
a man of superior mind not only praise these tendencies,
for which she had been heretofore so severely blamed,
but congratulate her upon them, as upon something
great, noble, and divine! If Rodin had only addressed
himself to Adrienne’s self-conceit, he would
have failed in his perfidious designs, for she had
not the least spark of vanity. But he addressed
himself to all that was enthusiastic and generous in
her heart; that which he appeared to encourage and
admire in her was really worthy of encouragement and
admiration. How could she fail to be the dupe
of such language, concealing though it did such dark
and fatal projects?

Struck with the Jesuit’s rare intelligence,
feeling her curiosity greatly excited by some mysterious
words that he had purposely uttered, hardly explaining
to herself the strange influence which this pernicious
counsellor already exercised over her, and animated
by respectful compassion for a man of his age and
talents placed in so precarious a position, Adrienne
said to him, with all her natural cordiality, “A
man of your merit and character, sir, ought not to
be at the mercy of the caprice of circumstances.
Some of your words have opened a new horizon before
me; I feel that, on many points, your counsels may
be of the greatest use to me. Moreover, in coming
to fetch me from this house, and in devoting yourself
to the service of other persons of my family, you
have shown me marks of interest which I cannot forget
without ingratitude. You have lost a humble but
secure situation. Permit me—­”

“Not a word more, my dear young lady,”
said Rodin, interrupting Mdlle. de Cardoville, with
an air of chagrin. “I feel for you the deepest
sympathy; I am honored by having ideas in common with
you; I believe firmly that some day you will have
to ask advice of the poor old philosopher; and, precisely
because of all that, I must and ought to maintain towards
you the most complete independence.”